


Sleeping All Day and Staying Up all Night

by Secret_Glances



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Glances/pseuds/Secret_Glances
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter when or where, even in five different universes, the two heroes managed to find love. Five times Tim and Kon fell in love.<br/>1: Pre-Reboot 2: Crossover AU Spider-man 3: AU Normal Tim Drake 4: Earth-16 5: Post-Reboot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Pre-Reboot

**Author's Note:**

> 'Ocean Avenue' by Yellowcard

**If I could find you now, things would get better,  
We could leave this town, and run forever.**

We’ve all heard the different cliché favorites when it comes to quotes or sayings about romance. Dr. Suess: “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” Then there’s of course: “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,” William Shakespeare. These beliefs, ideas ignite a flame of hope within people and inspire them to dream of something that should be impossible. For, it is against the forces of nature to be monogamous. To feel such compassion, empathy, and unconditional feelings for someone other than yourself cannot be scientifically explained. The closest explanation for such a thing is the idea that…

“When it's time for souls to meet, there's nothing on earth that can prevent them from meeting, no matter where each may be located on planet Earth.”

…because it’s love.

Soul mates are able to recognize each other in an instant, even if they don’t realize this themselves. This is what people would normally call ‘love at first sight’. Even if they don’t meet for years, or they already have, eventually as their dreams, goals, and paths cross they discover each other. They could even be halfway across the world, but if it’s truly meant to be they always find one another.

The question most people have, however, is whether all this ‘mumbo jumbo’ is real. Do soul mates exist? Can people achieve true love? Is it possible for two people to belong to only each other no matter where or when? It’s hard to believe, especially when people fall in and out of love every day quicker than even The Flash can run or Superman can fly. But I believe, that as long as both hearts remain steady, and never give up–

_“I asked Raven if I had a soul yesterday.”_

_“What did she say?”_

_“Nothing. She got flustered. Raven got flustered. What’s that mean? I’m a clone I know that…but do I have a soul?”_

_“Of course you do.”_

 –they will recognize a part of their own soul within each other, and find their way back no matter where or when.

**I know somewhere, somehow, we’ll be together,  
Let your waves crash down, and take me away.**

**...**

**There’s a piece of you that’s here with me,  
it’s everywhere I go, it’s everything I see.**

What kind of bullshit was he kidding himself? He was in a bad place? Tim had to wonder to himself how believable that even sounded to Kon’s ears. Then again, if he were still everything he was before _that day_ , the same ole Kon, then of course he would trust whatever he said…most times anyways. Nonetheless, if Kon were still the same Kon as always, than he must know when Tim was trying to fool everyone – including himself. Tim sort of knew he was alive. Sure, it actually did take a bit to fully take in that Bart had come back as well. But Kon? He’s his best friend for God’s sake. Tim had spent too many hours down in his lab trying to re-clone him! That’s how much this clone, this person, meant to him. So, when they crossed paths back in Paris, yeah, it was as though every agonizing moment he spent without him never happened. It was like a dream. Like most of the ones he had: Kon was alive, and there for him when no one else could be. None of it was real to him. It was easier to accept than to face reality, good or bad.

But to say it was because he was ‘in a bad place’ was mega bullshit. Super bullshit even. More bullshit than the time Kon ‘accidentally’ forgot a dinner date with Cassie in favor of a horror movie with him and Bart.  So, the truth of it all was that it _never_ soaked in. Not until that moment that for the first time, the person he was holding in front of him was real, not a dream or some weird hallucination from some Gotham baddie’s drug. He could take it all in and let it settle in his stomach that Bart had come back from the dead alive and well when he heard. But it wasn’t until Tim could actually touch Kon, _feel_ him, could he shake that doubt in the back of his mind that it was all just lies. He spent too many nights looking up at the moon waiting for his best friend to fly towards him with that cocky grin of his.

When he first saw Kon, it was his first instinct to pretend nothing had happened. To shut himself up and to not allow himself to believe his best buddy in the world had accomplished what only a few have themselves – return from the dead. Tim was always used to shutting away his emotions, and to focus on what was in front of him and deal with it. He didn’t want to take the risk of knowing the only thing worse than knowing Kon was dead - that he _still was_. Back when he was younger, more naïve, every time he tried to re-clone the boy, he’d foolishly let a glimmer of hope rise thinking ‘this was it’. But every single damn time, it wasn’t. He felt like a hollow, empty shell and just wanted to curl up and disappear after each failed attempt. Eventually, he gave in and fell into darkness and couldn’t find his way out. No one could pull him out, and the only person that could was dead. He needed to feel his heart beat, the warmth, his breath, because Tim was the kind of guy who needed science and hard evidence to believe anything.

Hell, he heard the anti-life equation when Darkseid was turning the universe into shit, and the worst part of it all? He fucking didn’t disagree with a lot of what it was all about. That’s how deep in the shadows Tim fell in, because he had lost so much prior. His father, Stephanie, and of course Kon. So sue him if he couldn’t stand to feel that single shattering moment of knowing that Kon wasn’t back, and was still dead. Luckily, he wasn’t.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Bart. Bart was one of the most important people in his life too; it was just that his relationship with Kon was different. He was always a pretty positive kid when he was younger. Maybe even a little bit of an obnoxious smart mouth, as Babs and Dick affectionately put it. He liked to think he was clever and saw things optimistically. But Kon, he could get him to be so angry, so flustered, so freaking upset he was ready to attempt to punch the boy of steel in the face…which he did. He’d piss Tim off so many times whenever they disagreed on missions. The first time they met Tim wanted to slap his forehead over and over every time the big idiot opened his mouth. He also got Tim to feel sad. Not even, I want to cry sad, but I want to disappear and fade into nothing sad. Kon helped bring him out of his shy, nice, happy demeanor. Kon made him _feel_. Made him feel alive, just like being Robin had done.

Walking along the shores of the beach that surrounded the Titan’s tower, Tim allowed himself to relax a little – enjoy life even. For once, in this life of spandex and vigilantes, he could breathe. He even went as far as slipping off his boots, and letting the cool sand slide between his toes. He needed this, because lately even something as simple as breathing was hard. He couldn’t seem to relax his mind, even though there was nothing on it.

He was visiting the team checking up on Damian for Dick making sure nothing had gone awry. Of course, he was mostly there to make sure his friends haven’t totally gone insane with that kid. They’ve begged him multiple times and tried everything in the book to convince him to come back, but he had other things he needed to attend to as Red Robin. They needed to accept he needed to be on his own for awhile, even if Kon still refused to accept Damian was the new Robin. But Tim can’t deny that it didn’t feel good that he would always be Kon’s Robin.

As he walked along, a breeze blew by and it felt nice against his face – he knew very well it wasn’t the night wind.

“Man, what are you doin’ out here? It’s like 3 in the morning!” The other boy exclaimed, floating beside him as he continued to follow the shores.

“Didn’t feel like sleeping.” Tim replied with a shrug.

Kon shook his head, before landing next to him and walking as well. “You bats never do,” he groaned, “surprised you’re not checkin’ your e-mail or nerding out on somethin’ else.”

“What about you? You’re up too.” Tim had pointed out, but rather than give a logical answer Kon only shrugged wearing an annoying smirk. For a while, they continued to walk along the beach not really saying anything. This was actually the first moment alone they’ve shared since the last time when Kon came to Gotham to see him. You know, without any crime fighting involved. There’s a lot to be said, but a lot Tim couldn’t, because he didn’t know where to begin. So far, most of their conversations have consisted of Kon criticizing his name, his hair, his cowl, and well…just about everything. It was one of those few moments that Tim had nothing on his mind. Besides, he was fine with Kon just being there. It was more reminding for him that his best friend really was back. But sometimes, he did need something more to know he was real. He needed some sort of totem or rock or _something_ to let him know it wasn’t a dream, because he’s been wanting his best friend back for so long it all just seemed too good to be true sometimes and–

“Rob, are you O.K.?”

It took a moment for Tim to realize he’d been crying. Quickly, he wiped it off on his sleeve, but he was wearing his under armor, so it wasn’t very effective. He really hated when people saw him cry. Even when it was Nightwing of all people. He especially hated the idea of Kon or Bart seeing him this way, it made him feel like a total girl. Plus, those two would give him crap for it on months on end, because that’s just how they are.

However, rather than laughing it up or teasing him, unexpectedly, Kon cupped his face into large, warm hands wiping away the tears with his thumbs softly. Tim shut his eyes, refusing to meet his gaze, because this was humiliating. But when he tried to pull away, instead, Kon pulled him back with his telekinesis, wrapping his arms around him as gently as he could holding back his super strength.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here.” Kon assured.

For a long minute, Tim couldn’t say anything. Because for some reason, him saying that pissed him off. For a moment, he almost wanted to punch the guy in the face, but he knew it would hurt his hand more than it’d actually do damage to the other boy. Finally, in a hushed whisper Tim hissed into his shoulder, “I don’t always–I _can’t_ always know that.” His voice broke near the end, it was quick, it was light, but with his super hearing, Kon didn’t miss it.

“And I’m tellin’ you I’m here. Now,” the clone tried again, only with a slightly more frustrated tone. He wasn’t mad, he just didn’t want his best buddy feeling this way, but he didn’t understand what was the problem. He was alive now, so that meant everything was all right again. “I even told you, any time you need me. Just yell and I’ll hear y–“

“What about all the times I did, and you didn’t come?” Tim accused seething between his teeth, shoving the other away as forcefully as he could. “You don’t know what it was like, to lose _you_. To visit your freaking memorial and know you’re gone. You just _don’t!”_ And there was the problem. “You have no clue what it was like for me…to find you dead.” It came out in a choke.

Kon dropped his head, clenching his fists tightly not looking at him. Tim froze in his spot wondering what was going on in his head. But when the other lifted his face, he held an expression Tim’s never really seen before, and he was sure he’s known all of Kon’s faces. In a solemn voice, he uttered, “Cassie said the same thing.” Tim was speechless, he wasn’t sure how to respond, ”I want to understand. I’m trying….But all I know right now is that I am here. Now.”

As if Kon knew this whole time, what Tim had been needing, wanting, Kon took his hand to reassure him–“I’m alive.”

“I know you are SB, but–“

“Just shut up man! Listen, when I say I’ll be there the next time you need me, _I’ll be there._ I mean, I forgave you and Cassie,” Ouch, Tim rubbed unconsciously at his arm guiltily, “so you think you can forgive me? For not bein’ there?”

Tim paused, and almost had to laugh. “You mean for being dead?” He corrected, bitterly.

“Yeah! Forgive me for dyin’.” Kon grinned wickedly, moving his hand up to place an arm around his shoulders completely missing the sarcasm, or just blatantly ignoring it. But it wouldn’t be Kon if he didn’t, and it managed to get Tim to crack a smile, despite everything. Maybe the guy had a point. Tim needed to learn to get a grasp of this ‘new’ reality. Kon was alive, and that’s what mattered. There was always going to be death in his life, whether he was a hero or not. He should be grateful, feel lucky for Kon’s return.

“’sides, I come even if you don’t call me.” Tim almost pointed how similar to Krypto such a trait was, but unlike Bart he knew when to not run his mouth.

“Like when you viciously attacked Stephanie?”

Kon shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “Thought she kidnapped you to play dress-up or something.”

“You must have really missed me.” Tim joked, but he didn’t expect Kon to hold such a serious face.

“And you missed me.” Kon added in a soft voice, before quickly forming a cocky smirk realizing what that meant.

Tim groaned at him while attempting to shove him away once more, but the clone only held on tighter using his TTK to stop him from getting away. He knew Tim needed it. He always knew what Tim needed. His arm was large, heavy, hairy too, and warm. His best friend was alive, and in time, it would soak in and feel real in his mind. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. But you are my best friend.” Tim snorted, rolling his eyes.

“So…don’t you have anything you wanna ask me?” Tim raised an eyebrow curiously at this, and Kon continued to smirk, “liiiike, don’t you wonder what it’s like bein’ dead? Or bein’ back from bein’ dead?”

For a fleeting second, Tim almost flinched, because the thought of Kon being dead was still sensitive. This is ironic, since the clone didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he could have been gone, forever. ”Like what? When Bruce came back he was the same…only he decided to ‘expand’ the Bat team worldwide…like a company…”

“Tch, that doesn’t count. Your old man only got sent back in time right?” The clone pointed out, annoyingly.

Tim sighed, “alright, Conner. enlighten me.”

Kon tapped his chin pretending to be lost in thought before making an ‘aha’ motion and finally saying, “well, I learned you don’t always get second chances. So, I thought why not do everything right this time?”

Tim smiled at this, and was even proud of his friend for having such an epiphany, “alright, so what does that mean?”

“Well, I thought I wanted to get back with Cassie, but we’ve both changed too much–“ just as Tim was about to apologize Kon shushed him, managing to piss him off a bit. Kon didn’t care, and only continued, “–you and me. Well, yeah, you’ve changed costumes, but we’re still the same.”

The other boy was quick to cut him off, “are you kidding me? I know I’ve changed. Just ask Stephanie what _she_ thinks.”

“Man, I told you to shut up and just listen.”

“O.K. I’m listening, so get on with it.” Tim muttered, obviously getting more pissed than before. It was nice, even nostalgic.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. Even if you did change, you and me didn’t.” Just as Tim was about to ask what he meant by that, he was suddenly more aware of just how close Kon was to his own body. He literally felt every inhale, the heat radiating off his chest, and each beat of his heart. At that moment, he decided maybe he didn’t necessarily need so much physical contact to know Kon was alive. Just maybe a few high-fives here and there. But before he could even process what was going on, there was a pressure on his lips and it felt just like it had with Ariana, Stephanie, with Tam, and any other person he’s loved before.

It felt right, only better. 


	2. AU Spiderman Crossover

**When I sleep, I dream and it gets me by,  
I can make believe that you’re here, tonight.**

_“If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you.”_

_“I know you will, Conner.”_

“You will not be able to escape Sergei so easily!” Cried out the beast, as he propelled his body from rooftop to rooftop, chasing after his hunt, who had swung over the glittering city, New York. With each landing, his body smashed into the building, crumbling the concrete beneath him. His eyes held a ravage glint, and he boar his teeth seething hot breath with every inhale. Soft fur covered every inch of his body, and sharp claws ripped through the tips of his fingers and toes. He could smell, hear, and sense far beyond a normal human’s capacity. He was a true wild cat at heart as well.

“I’m pretty sure I have before, the last fifty or so times you broke out…” called back his hunt mockingly, as he shot various webs from wall to wall swinging and throwing his body into the air, “seriously though; they should really do something about the security down at the prison.” He was an unusual human being with highly developed senses of his own…

“Stop trying to escape your fate, prey.”…he had been mutated with capabilities that alike of an arachnid clad in red and blue…

“One of these days, you’re going to have to learn my name. It’s usually the headliner of most newspapers, can’t miss it!”…Spiderman.

“Then again, do they let you read in jail? The pound?” Spiderman laughed, before swinging his body upwards into the air, letting his arms and legs fall dead around his body before shoving them forward and grabbing at the top of a roof fan getting into a crouch. Kravinoff caught up with him and got into his own stance while growling viciously, clutching his spear with challenge radiating off him. Spiderman cocked his head at him, rolling his eyes behind the white lenses of his cowl.

“Enough with these games.” Kravinoff yelled in a low, angry, growl, before smashing his free hand into the ground shaking the building.

“Aw, and you were really getting better at Tag. How about a game of fetch? I’m so sure you’d be good at that!” Spiderman jabbed, pointing his index finger upwards, but just as he was about to flick his wrist to capture the other man into a web, he realized there was something wrong with his web-shooter. He must have accidentally jammed it earlier that day while he was fighting Sandman. But he spent too long of a second thinking. His body froze up as he realized what had happened and his senses went wild. All he felt was the tingle of pain riveting through his body as his muscles tensed at the stab into his body. Kravinoff had him shoved over the edge with his spear of the eighty story high building, hanging on by only the adhesive of the hairs on his fingers to the brick. “ _Shit_.”

“Do not be so quick to talk.” Kravinoff muttered out darkly, amusement painting his face as he tugged Spiderman up by the collar of his costume chocking him, slightly ripping him off the edge. There was a gash at his side where the spear had hit, but it wasn’t too big to go the hospital for; however, it was big enough to send a burning pain throughout his abdomen. With his other hand, Kravinoff had dropped his spear in favor of a sharpened dagger, the tooth of a wild cat. He held the smiling, white edge to his neck, pressing only slightly: just enough to rip the material of the costume, and tear through his skin to draw out a droplet of red. “You will make a great trophy.” He breathed into his face, chuckling heartily.

Spiderman wasn’t an idiot. He was actually very good at formulating plans and calculating his enemy’s moves. That’s how he was always able to beat his dad in chess…but then again, that wasn’t a very hard task. However, it was times like these where super powers became a disadvantage to him, because than wild psychos looking to capture him for one reason or another would come after him. His buddy Pete would kill to have his powers...okay, maybe not kill since he was a hero too…but he would rather have had the chance to fight alongside his idol. Unfortunately, said idol had a thing against metas and mutants – like himself. Unlike lucky Pete who was a powerless, normal, human being – the bastard! He also heavily relied on his powers to survive against these foes, and growing up he always had a slight case of bad luck. Like when his web-shooters would choose to jam at the worst possible times.

However, although there were many things he could have done to get himself out of this mess, it was his first instinct that told him to let go of the edge. Fast and light, he free fell away from Kravinoff’s blade, and called out in a hoarse whisper as breath escaped him. His heart pounded against his chest rapidly as the name slipped from his lips, so quietly he couldn’t hear it himself.

Falling was always exhilarating. There was this excitement that got his heart beating so fast he swear it would rip right out his chest. It made him feel like he was alive, because of the adrenaline rush and the danger of knowing only death awaited should he hit the ground. It made your blood boil, your teeth grit, and your stomach flop as the wind blew across your face and all you felt was free. But this time, it was different…

It was peaceful.

Nothing to fear.

He couldn’t understand why.

“Got you!” Large, muscular arms caught him into a hold, pulling him in closely. In the arms of a stranger, oddly enough, he felt secure and sure. They were warm, like a sip of hot milk, a gust of desert air – **sunshine** , but it was a cold and blistery winter night in New York City.

The meta that held him carried him protectively as he flew upwards back to the top of the roof, before gently setting him down across the way of his enemy. Spiderman tested his web shooters pointing his wrists towards an unsuspecting, abandoned old beer can. With a flick, it went flying through the air. It worked again. Guess he _could have_ used them. But he wasn’t even completely sure what his thinking process was back there. It was almost like muscle memory…no…it _was_ muscle memory.  

“Kraven does not recognize _this_ prey.” The man commented in a gruff, scratching his chin but remaining his stance. Just as Spiderman was about to comment the meta chimed in.

“Man, seriously, third person? You sound like that creepy little guy from that one really boring movie.” The meta whined, with a disgusted face pointing one finger into his mouth as a gag. Kravinoff only raised one eyebrow in confusion.   

Spiderman rolled his eyes beneath his cowl, completely un-amused by the ignorance to Tolkien by both his enemy and his ‘savior’. “Really? His name is Smeagol.” He spat out with irritation.

“It is Sergei Kravinoff, greatest hunter one shall ever meet!” The beast roared with insult, he was almost certain the meta had a bit of drool hanging from his lip as he stared away with boredom.

Spiderman shook his head, completely baffled by the idiocy he was dealing with, “I wasn’t talking about–whatever…” He trailed off, as the hunter started charging towards him once more shooting a net out of nowhere onto Spiderman. There was sort of formulated adhesive that reacted with his hairs. He couldn’t get out no matter how much he stretched and struggled. But before Kravinoff’s weapon could meet Spiderman’s head the meta flew in front of him and pulled back a fist ready to punch.

“What he said: _whatever_!” The meta yelled out before the force of his hand pounded into Kravinoff’s jaw sending spit, blood, and teeth flying around his head. The hunter’s body ricocheted across the roof ripping through the concrete until he hit the edge. He wasn’t dead, but he was out cold. Spiderman made a mental note to make nice with this meta.“Man, hate it when they monologue. They never even say anything funny. Unless it’s one of those really hot evil chicks. Girls talk a lot all the time anyways. Know what I mean?” Whether he wanted to or not.

“How about you cut me out?” He replied flatly. This guy was kind of an brute, reminded him a lot of Flash Thompson, ugh…

“Alright, but watch out, I haven’t really gotten a hang of this yet…”  The meta warned. Spiderman cocked an eyebrow behind the lenses, but he quickly realized what the boy had meant as sky blue blurred into bright scorching red.

“Wha–WAIT!” Before the other meta could even react, heat shot out of his eyes cutting down Spiderman, and barely scratching him. He grabbed at his arms checking for any serious burns and inwardly sighed in relief to find none. However, the soothing sensation quickly disappeared as anger took over. He never really appreciated such brash and irresponsible actions. Grinding out between his teeth he bit out, “tch…Christ, you need to come with a warning label.” Standing up, he brushed off his uniform in dramatic effect earning an eye roll from the other boy.

“Uh, see the shield?” The meta asked, pointing towards his uniform…if you could call a t-shirt and jeans a proper disguise. “Besides, I did warn you.”

“Hardly.” Spiderman muttered gruffly, folding his arms as he eyeballed the meta from head to toe. The other shifted uncomfortably in his spot, well aware he was being studied. “So what are you? Superman’s son?”

“Er…you _could_ say something like that.” He responded, scratching at his neck looking away. Before he could even pursuit the subject further, the super interrupted his thoughts, “you’re Spiderman right?”

“Glad someone knows who I am.” He snorted, referring to Kravinoff’s lack of ability to retain information. The super didn’t miss the annoyance in his tone.

“What? Kitty here forget?” He jabbed, yanking one thumbs towards the captured criminal.

“He always refers to me as ‘prey’, ‘trophy’, and on good days: ‘honorable beast’.”

“Sounds like a healthy relationship you got there.”

“Tell me about it…” He responded in a gruff, shaking his head. There was an immediate tension lingering in the air, an awkwardness he was sure both of them would like to kill. So in a drawed out voice, he asked the super, “…so, do you have a name?”

“I go by Superboy.” Figures.

“Superboy, huh?”

“But here’s the thing I’m wonderin’,” Suddenly, the super…Superboy, went from easygoing to a serious tone. His posture losing its lazy stance, with his arms crossed over on guard. His eyes, never leaving the whites of his cowl, as if her were trying to use his x-ray vision to see right through them. “How’d you know my _name_?”

“Uh, I don’t know if it’s a Kryptonian genetic thing or just who you are to have short term memory, but I’m pretty sure I just asked you for it.” Spiderman replied, shrugging his shoulders mockingly.

But Superboy didn’t even react, he continued his stare – hard and curious, his voice, becoming lower, and almost dangerous. “I’m talkin’ about my _other_ name.”

“What are you talking about?” He felt his heart start to pound against his chest. No, he wasn’t exactly sure he knew what Superboy was talking about, but he knew deep down – yes, he did.

“C’mon, don’t play stupid.”

“I have no clue what you’re–“ Spiderman paused for a second, as he understood fully what he was getting at. The name he uttered from before, as he free fell from the building…“You’re Conner.” Hearing the name against his own lips sent chills up his spine. Hearing his name, he watched the muscles in Superboy’s face relax for a moment. Before Superboy flew over in a flurry, grabbed his face, and covered his mouth through his cowl.

“Shhh! Not so loud!”

Spiderman shook himself free, shoving himself away from the super, “what do you expect?!” He accused, Superboy…or Conner, who studied him carefully before suggesting…

“Let’s go far…from this guy, before he wakes up.”

“So we’re just going to leave him?”

“I dunno, tie-string-slime him like you usually do. You _are_ Spiderman right?” He was really tempted to ‘slime’ this brute up, but he was too physically worn out to keep fighting. He wasn’t even sure if he could take this super on at his best…what would really be useful was Pete’s computer skills right about now, so he could find out what this Superboy guy was all about. But Peter was probably busy doing the dynamic duo thing down in Gotham.

“It’s synthetic adhesive webbing.” He corrected, firmly.

Conner rolled his eyes, and scoffed, “toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe, let’s go already!” Spiderman shook his head at him before aiming his hand towards Kravinoff, only to be met with…absolutely nothing. Just his luck. Even if he did pick a fight with the super, he didn’t have anything left to use.

“Great, now I’m all out.” He mumbled, inspecting his gadget.

Conner scratched his head dumbly, as he asked, “bugs can run out?” Spiderman rubbed his temples groaning.

“You are aware I’m not actually a spider, right? Web-shooters, invented them myself.” He demonstrated, showing Conner, who took his hands and inspected them carefully. Spiderman was about to make a comment about personal space when the super gave him a _look_. They both froze on the spot, and Spiderman just knew what was going on. It was a look that he figured must have been reading his heat signs or was using x-ray vision or something, because suddenly Conner’s look was _hilarious_ as he scrambled away embarrassed.

“WHOA! There’s a guy underneath there?!” Conner exasperated, wide eyed and surprised. Spiderman rolled his eyes, wondering how a meta such as him could possibly be this surprised. He’s probably seen weirder, or maybe it was the whole ‘hand holding’ thing he just did. Hello? Are we fourteen here?

“Wow. I had no clue aliens were more frightened of boys than spiders.” He chuckled, crossing his arms, and stepping forward.

“Shut-up.”  Then in one quick swoop, Conner had him thrown over his shoulder. And here he thought being caught in this guy’s arms was emasculating, now _this_?

“What are you doing?!” Spiderman exclaimed, trying very hard not to gasp, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I’m not going to wait all day. I want answers, now.” Before letting the other respond he flew off. All the while knowing very well Spiderman would be better of letting himself be carried off than falling hundreds of feet with no webbing left.

“Let go of me!” Spiderman commanded, as soon as Conner’s feet touched the surface of the roof. Shoving himself away from the other meta, he made a clear five feet distance between them before yelling at him. “What makes you think I was even calling for _you_? _Conner_?” He spat his name like it was an insult. 

Conner groaned in annoyance, before replying as if the answer were so obvious, “I doubt you were tryin’ to get the other Connor. Not like his ‘Arrow’ jet, or whatever the hell he uses, could get here fast enough, or much less could he _hear_ you.” He then rolled his eyes while mouthing ‘duh’ into his direction.

Pausing for a very long and careful time, Spiderman brought his palm to his forehead, “…are you telling me Green Arrow’s secret identity right now?”

Conner only blinked at him before realization hit him like a sack of kryptonian rocks, “Aw shit…”

“Dude, you’re not really good with secrecy.”

“Not my fault if your hero networkin’ sucks.”

Spiderman scoffed, “Jeans and a t-shirt? What’s your civilian disguise? Glasses?” Conner smiled sheepishly, scratching at his neck, Spiderman faced palmed one more time, “Oh my god, it is.”

“Oh yeah!? Well what’s yours?” Conner huffed, dramatically.

Spiderman slipped off his mask, revealing dark strands, and blue eyes, “it’s called a cowl.” _Genius_.

For a moment, Conner stared at him for what felt like forever. His eyes darted everywhere, avoiding his gaze until finally…he wouldn’t break their stare. He was probably trying a little too hard to come up with something witty to say, but then he sighed and asked, “alright bug boy. How did you know my name?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly.

“Nng! Wrong. Try again.”

“I really don’t know.”

“Man, how can you not know? Huh? Who ya workin’ for? Who told you?” Conner accused, jabbing a finger into his chest, which Spiderman grabbed and shoved away angrily.

“I don’t know. I’m not working for anyone, and no one told me.” He seethed.

“How can you not know? It’s impossible, because you do know.” The other growled, getting up and close into his face, “now tell me, before I have to hurt you.” His words filled with threat and danger, but Spiderman knew better.

“Superman wouldn’t harm an innocent that didn’t charge at him.”

“Well I’m not Superman.” Conner spat out, bitterly.

“And I can tell that _you_  wouldn’t either.” Spiderman poked _him_ in the chest. He was careful not to wince, because it actually kind of hurt…

He was sure Conner was going to get even more riled up, and more in his face, but instead he backed off and looked away. Spiderman was about to keep going, until Conner muttered coldly, “you don’t know that.” He didn’t miss that tinge of sadness either.

For a moment, Spiderman felt a little bad for the guy. “You can fly like him.” He pointed out, but without any venom.

“No I can’t.”

“What do you call what you just did?”

“Tactile Telekinesis.”

“Okay, but you have heat vision too. You look just like him. You are the son of Superman, and that’s all I need to know to know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I’m just his clone.”

“So? All the more reason–“ He was just about to reach out and place a comforting hand onto Conner’s shoulder, when the meta spun around and yelled back.

“Half of me is Superman. The other half, you don’t even want to know. But all I can say is that I can assure you…” his voice died out quickly, “…I am fully capable of hurting you if I have to.”

He didn’t need spidey senses to tell him something must have happened, something _bad_. But he also didn’t needed those senses to tell him this brute was not a bad guy either, “but you don’t have to, and no matter what you say I know you won’t hurt me.”

“How can you stand here and act like you know me at all?” Sky blue glistened, as the lights of New York reflected across his eyes. A familiar pang struck his chest, and his head felt all cloudy. He didn’t understand, maybe it was his powers having weird reactions again.

“Look, I don’t know how I knew your name, or anything else. I just do.”

Conner grabbed at his shoulders, fiercely, shaking him desperately, “you don’t just know things without a reason!” He yelled at him, but his grip relaxed and he let him go, moving away and looking back towards the city.  

“So I’m right, you won’t hurt me.” Spiderman said, rubbing at his shoulders. 

“Oh, yeah?!” Conner flew right towards him, back in his face, “I could even _kill_ you right here.” He threatened in a seeth, but Spiderman didn’t even flinch.

“You can’t do that, how would you live with yourself knowing you killed a fellow hero, an innocent? Only someone soulless could do such a thing.”

Conner rolled his eyes, “Easy, clones don’t have souls.”

“But you _do_ have one.”

“Pfft, and what makes you say that, huh?!”

“You came, because somehow you knew I needed help.”

“So? it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“No. It’s what you _chose_ to do. You save people because you want to be a hero. Only someone with a soul could have such empathy!” Suddenly, Spiderman found himself yelling back.

“How do you know I wasn’t programmed?” The super argued. 

“Because whoever ‘programmed’ you would have at least made you smarter.” He responded snarkily, but instead of getting angrier, Conner rolled his eyes again and flew backwards.

“Is now really a good time to piss off the guy with heat vision?” He asked, lamely.

“Tch, you don’t even know how to use that ability properly.” Spiderman scoffed, crossing his arms.

“You think you know everything.” Conner threw his arms into the air, with frustration clear in his voice. 

“No, just most things.” He shrugged his shoulders, and smirked, before continuing on, “and I still stand by what I said before.”

“Fine. I won’t hurt you. Only ‘cause I don’t feel like it.”

“Conner, whether you want to believe it or not–“

“Don’t. Don’t use my name like you know me or somethin’.”

“–when I look in your eyes, I know there’s something more there than a hollow shell of a clone.”

Conner stopped, completely flabberghasted. “Wow. Are we on The View or what?”

“Shut up.” Spiderman muttered, looking at the ground bashfully, “how did you even know I needed you at all?”

“…I dunno.” Really?

“Hey, you wanted answers, I do too. For all you knew I could have been calling anyone.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. I can tell.” Now it was Spiderman’s turn to get into his face, but Conner broke their stare and turned away up towards the sky.

Before flying off, Superboy shouted down to him, “next time you need your ass saved, call the fucking Avengers. They actually live ‘round here.” And he flew off with the last word, asshole. He would have gone after him, but Dad and Dana always waited up for him.

A week passed, and ever since their encounter, Spiderman couldn’t stop obsessing over how in the world Conner could have possibly recognized his voice. He also couldn’t even grasp himself, how he knew the super’s name. He went through countless algorithms and other sorts of equations trying to explain the physics of the universe. He flipped through a dozen theory books. He went as far as calling up Pete about that file on Superboy; however, he was surprised to find Peter already knew Superboy from working together at some ‘teen hero social club’ called the Teen Titans. First off, why didn’t Parker invite him? How come nobody told him about it? And why didn’t the Boy Wonder mention to him he was friends with Superman’s son…clone…or whatever!

The point was, this guy was occupying all his thoughts, and distracting him too much on his patrols. When he obsessed, he _really_ obsessed. Which wasn’t exactly a bad thing. That was the only way he could become friends with Peter Parker in the first place. Ever since Haley’s circus came to New York, he couldn’t get his mind to tear away from _Dick Grayson_. One thing leads to another, and he learned the identity of the new Robin. Whom proved to be extra helpful when he needed a hand or two in his own city. Although, right now Parker was being pretty useless...he needed answers. Now. 

Because...he couldn’t help but wonder…was Conner having those dreams too?

“You can come out; I know it’s you, Superboy.” He called out, as he finished ‘sliming’ up the last thug, preparing them for the NYPD to take away. A large shadow peered over him, when he turned around he was met with a red shield, those ridiculous jeans, and sky blue.

“How’d you guess?”

“Break in the sound barrier.”

Conner had to smirk at his response, “thought your ‘spidey senses’ would tingle.”

“How did you know about _that_?” Spiderman questioned, squinting his eyes beneath his cowl.

“A certain Boy Wonder.” Conner responded, with a shit eating grin. Spiderman’s shoulders visibly slumped as he groaned. He contemplated telling the super about Parker’s hidden cameras as revenge.

“So, why are you here?” Not covering up his irritation.

“Thought you needed help.”

“Handled it.” Spiderman jabbed a thumb towards the moaning, bruised, pile of men.

“I see that.”

“Yeah, should have been here five minutes ago. You totally missed out on getting Iron Man and Captain America’s autograph. They actually came to my rescue, because you know, I’m not an actual hero with super powers or anything and can defend myself.” He snorted, leaning on one leg and crossing his arms.

“Ha-Ha. You knew what I meant by that.”

“You mean how you were being a huge asshole? Yeah, I got it.” And with that, he slung a web upwards, and headed towards the roofs away from the super. But of course, could you really escape from someone cloned from Superman? Not really.

“Man, cut the shit, I didn’t come here to fight.” Conner called to him, following behind effortlessly, but he wasn’t really trying _too hard_ to escape.

“Look, for the last time, I have absolutely no clue how or why I knew your name. I didn’t even know it was the identity of ‘Mr. I’m Hopped up on too much steroids’. I’d actually like to know myself.”

“Your name is Tim, isn’t it?”

“You–“ Finally, he stopped off the side of a tall, red bricked building, ripping off his cowl gaping at the super, “how?”

“I don’t know either.” Conner replied, landing softly beside him, sky blue never leaving dark eyes, “had a dream, saw your ugly mug, and I knew it was you.”

“You recognized my voice.”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

Sky blue glistened, just as before, that other night, the reflection of the lights and everything, until finally he breathed gently, “…your heartbeat.” Tim felt his own heart pang, in response. “What does this mean?” Conner asked, but he didn’t really know either.

“Hell should I know.” Tim mumbled, before perking up and saying, “But these dreams, they’re more proof that you do have a soul.”

Conner smiled, and for some reason, Tim liked that. A lot. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that. “No one’s actually ever said that before.”

“Uh…which part?”

“That thing, about souls.”

“So?”

“Thanks.”

Thank goodness for the darkness of the night, because he could feel the heat rising on the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“I read somewhere, about souls…” Conner coughed into his hand, nervously.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never met you before, but maybe we’re connected somehow. If you’re right about the soul thing.”

Tim cocked his head to the side, and rose a single eyebrow, “Superboy…no offense, but you are aware of the connotations about souls being connected…right?”

“You’re talking ‘bout soul-mates right?” DUH.

“Are you saying you think we’re soul-mates?”

“No, I’m just saying we are connected somehow…” Conner’s voice trialed off, before he sheepishly grinned and stammered, “…and maybe that’s a possibility.”

“Look Conner, you seem to be a good guy with a good heart but…uh…this is…” Tim stood from leg to leg awkwardly, not really sure what was the right response to all of this. Damn, and he thought half the evil villains he had to fight were weirder than this. He made a mental note: Krytonians, weirdest species…er…race, _ever_.

“Weird?”

“Very.”

Superboy huffed at him throwing his arms up, “don’t get so worked up! And you should be flattered. I’m _the_ Superboy. You have no clue how many chicks dig me. Besides, I said it was just _one_ possibility.”

“I’m a guy, not a chick so….and answer me this, why would this be your idea of the _first_ possibility?!” Tim was very careful about not outright laughing in his face.

“Because you said you look at me, and you think I have a soul.” He replied, lamely.

“I try to be nice to a strange guy, now said guy is hitting on me.”

“I’m not hittin’ on you! Now shut up before I actually do!” Conner raised a fist threateningly, Tim just yawned into his hand, “I just, y’know, read somewhere that people who are soul-mates–“

“Which we’re not.” He quickly cut in.

“–recognize each other, instantly.”

Tim raised that eyebrow once more, quoting with a very careful tone, _“_ _t_ _rue love is your soul’s recognition of its counterpoint in another?”_

“That’s what I heard.”

“That’s from _Wedding Crashers,_ Romeo!”

“That a movie?”

“Great movie.”

“Still, lots of other people say stuff and–“

Tim cut him off waving his hand, “are you trying to make me your girlfriend or something?”

“No! I’m just…I’m trying to make sense of things.”

“How does telling me any of this make any more sense?!”

“Because in my dream I–“ Conner stopped, before his eyes got…he wasn’t even sure. They darkened, and drooped, before he looked away towards New York, muttering, “forget it. It was stupid to come here. See ya never.” No...he couldn't just leave-!

“What were you going to say?” Tim grabbed him quickly, not letting him leave so hastily this time. No way, was he going to let him say good bye so quickly. Not here, not now. 

“I said forget it.” But he didn’t pull away.

“Look, I’m sorry! I want answers too, so can you just tell me? In your dream you…?” He begged to know, desperately, feeling his chest tug and pull.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Tim tightened his grip, before finally confessing, “I felt _it_ too.”

Holding his breath, he waited for Conner to say something, _anything_. His heart racing a million miles a second, not sure if Conner understood what he had meant. But when he turned around to face him, his eyes said it all. He didn’t know if that was good, or bad.

“But we weren’t together.”

“No, we were friends.”

“Best friends.”

“And now?’

“Strangers.” When Conner said that word, Tim felt his heart ache, badly, almost as if he could just…it was a shock to his chest, and like a punch to the gut. He felt like everything he ever held dear was stolen from him, and that made him hurt. There was a hollowness that screamed to be filled, and all he wanted to do was take this guy into his arms and fill it. Would that be okay?

“Is this O.K?” He wondered, a hint of desperation laced into his voice. Dark blue stared into sky blue searching, wondering. He couldn’t read him, and fuck, he had never been this scared to lose anyone before. He didn’t understand, he just met this brute. How? Why? All he knew, at this moment, however, he needed him in his life – forever. Even if just as best friends, friends, hero acquaintances…whatever! Whatever he wanted to be in Tim’s life, because fuck…he needed Conner. Just…just…

“Only one way to find out…” Before he knew it, two warm hands cupped his face pulling him in close. The ache evaporated into a rain of sunshine. It was like the sun beating down, on his lips. It was soft, gentle, _loving_ , nothing like what Superboy exuberated. It was all Conner. His Conner. His cloneboy.  


End file.
